Taste of Vengeance ✔

Prologue

One year earlier

His body jolted as the man raped him. His empty eyes stared into hers. There was no expression on his face. No horror, no pain – just blankness. As if he had died already.

Abigail's hands clenched around the bars, tears rolling down her cheeks. She was screaming and tugging at the bars but they wouldn't budge. The black haired man continued impassively; he had no shame, no sympathy, nothing at all as if this was common for him, routine.

She stretched her arm through the bars; trying to touch the face of the man that she loved so much. He however was too far away, she couldn't reach him. She could never reach him.

The world faded.

Now she found herself standing in a dining hall, she could see him at one of the tables eating a piece of pie. The rapist sat on the other side of the table, watching him as well; there was a look in his eyes that made her feel sick. They talked to each other, just a few words, but Abigail was too far and couldn't hear them. She tried to get closer, but it was as if her feet had sunk into the floor, rooting her to the spot.

Both men stood up. She watched as the rapist moved. Holding a knife in one hand, as he wrapped his other arm around him. For a moment Juice's eyes seemed to find hers; his lips bending into a sad smile, a goodbye. Then the black-haired man whispered something in his ear and then struck, stabbing the knife into his neck; time and time again.

Abigail screamed, falling onto her knees, and tried to crawl towards him. She was too late. He fell. Blood pooling on the ground; surrounding the both of them, coating her fingers as she clawed her way closer.

"Juice!" she kept yelling his name, kept trying to get closer to him.

She was the only one. Why did nobody help him? Why did they all let him die?

The blood became thicker, turning into quicksand, pull her down, drowning her...

. . .

Screaming, Abigail shot up in bed, her cheeks wet with tears. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest, as she breathed in with wild gulps. Her nightie was soaked and sticking to her sweaty body.

"Hey, come here. It was just a nightmare baby," a raspy, sleepy voice sounded.

Abigail shivered as she laid down next to him again. Sobbing softly, she snuggled closer to him, until the warmth of his body calmed her down a bit. Soothingly, his hand stroked her side.

"Was it the same one again?"

She nodded against his shoulder, desperately breathing in his scent. It always felt so real, each and every time. "These nightmares... they scare me so much," she whispered.

"They're just dreams, sweetie." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise. That shit with Roosevelt, that's all over. The club gave me a second chance. I'm never going to let something like that happen again, baby. Never."

Tears slipped between her eyelashes. But what if he blew his chance? What would happen then? She however kept that thought to herself, it wasn't helpful and she didn't want to give him the feeling that she had no faith in him. But she was scared, so scared to lose him...

"I love you, Juice," she murmured in his tight embrace.

"I love you too, sweetheart." He kissed her again. "So much."